


Fool's Paradise

by Attentionspanofnone



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Denial, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Horrortale Sans (Undertale), Illnesses, Loss, Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Undertale Reset Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 04:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18113756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attentionspanofnone/pseuds/Attentionspanofnone
Summary: How do you cope with loss? Especially when you can bring them back. You know they will die. You know you will lose them all over again. Do you repeat a vicious cycle of loss and death? How can you stop, when its all you can do?





	1. Here we go again

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This ficlet is a spin off from Aggre(g/v)ation by the very talented Llama_Goddess. If you have not read it, the please, please, please go read it! It is amazing and if you have not read her fic then this one probably won't make a lot of sense.
> 
> The inspiration for this fic came from and ask that she recently answered about how the boys would handle MC dying of an incurable illness. My angst riddled brain started going wild with plot bunnies that refused to be banished, so with permission i wrote this. Links below for the source fic and the asks that inspired this.
> 
> Very Important Note: This fic starts, form MC's pov, essentially where chapter 4 of Aggre(g/v)ation would have been. The reset takes everyone back to the moment Skull arrived. The boys all remember the resets but MC doesn't. Have fun. Happy feels!
> 
> Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229902/chapters/35324073
> 
> Asks: https://llamagoddessofficial.tumblr.com/post/183424829521/okay-first-of-all-sans-is-a-jealous-blue-bean
> 
> https://llamagoddessofficial.tumblr.com/post/183425133016/w-oo-hop-aboard-the-feels-train-choo-choo-but

Please...Not again. I…..I can't. Not again.  
…..  
Don't go.  
…...  
COME BACK!

~~~~~~~~

It's late when you jolt awake, the remnants of a dream still clinging to your mind, fading faster as consciousness takes hold. The bright glare and loud sounds coming from the television across the room interrupt your futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting vision. The most you can retain are vague disjointed images. A hospital, strained smiles, stars, crying voices, broken pleas, and an ever building sensation of fear, dread and guilt. You can only imagine what had been playing as you slept to encourage such depressing imagery, but you suppose it's what you get for passing out on the living room couch.

This wasn't the first time you'd fallen asleep after telling yourself you'd go to bed after just one more episode. Sure, sleeping while Netflix ran wild, playing suggestion after suggestion had resulted in weird dreams before, but nothing that had ever left you feeling so off after waking up. Whatever had been going through your unconscious mind had a strong hold and it was hard to ignore the lingering feeling of dread settling in your core.Hopefully heading to your own bed and getting some decent rest would sort out your odd emotions.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you groggily pull yourself off the couch, smoothing your mussed up hair and straightening your clothes, fully intending to turn off the offending electronic that had caused your bout of fitful sleep. 

Or, well that is, until you notice the giant now standing in your living room. 

You had enough time to register that you are staring down another skeleton before the newcomer all but flashes to your side, and scoops you up into his arms. 

The first thought to cross your mind, as your face is squished into the fabric of his tattered hoodie muffling your shocked gasp, is that this man is massive. His frame all but engulfs you as he settles his grip around your waist, holding you flush against him, feet no longer touching the floor. Your second, albeit more pressing thought, is that you really want him to put you down. The dread that had settled in your gut from before, quickly morphs into unease at the current situation, building slightly into a mild panic as you feel his frame start to vibrate, a rolling, deep whine rising from somewhere in his chest.

Twisting in his hold in a vain attempt to see over your shoulder you try to scan the room, praying to see your roommate, or at the very least Red. This guy had to be another relative and you're sure one of them could help defuse the situation.

“S-SANS! RED!” you call, trying to keep the fear out of your voice. If the stranger picked up on it, he gave no indication. The hold around your waist does tighten somewhat as you continue to move, making it clear you are not getting down anytime soon. You're about to call out again, desperate for some reassurance that you are not about to be murdered by some strange, unhinged skeleton, but before you can open your mouth to yell, the aforementioned pair speak, voices coming from somewhere out of sight.

“Put. Her. Down.”  
“Come on, ya scare’n her big guy. Put’er down.”

Sans’ tone is stilted and firm, leaving no room for argument. Red's on the other hand, is low, soft and steady in a way you've never heard before. From your position in the stranger's arms, you can't see the grim tilt of Sans’ frown, or the tense set to his shoulders, nor do you see the pained way Reds eyes dart away from you, desperate to look anywhere else.

Your breath hitches as another whine reverberates through the giant's chest, his arms tightening around your waist once more.

“Skull. NOW.”

Skull, as you now know, grunts and slowly sets you on your feet, straightening to glare at Sans over your head. His towering height is intimidating, and as the whine in his voice rolls into a growl, you become very aware of the hands still grasping your shoulders, reluctant to completely let you go. The two continue to stare each other down, a slight crackling to the air making the tension all more overbearing. Catching Reds eyes you silently plea for some kind of explanation. Noticing your extreme unease at the situation, he sighs and steps in the middle of the room, hands upturned in a placating manner.

“Tsk, guys, why don't we calm down a bit. Think we're freaking (y/n) out a bit here.”

~~~~~~~~

Red couldn't quite bring himself to look at you. Yes, he'd seen you die before, and no, this was by no means the first time they'd reset. Yet somehow, each time this got harder and harder. He looks at you now, and sees the ghost of your pale, pained face. Laying there, dying of a disease that would inevitably take you away again. 

The guilt is the hardest part, knowing how much suffering awaits you. Oh, you'll smile and try to hide it. You'll say you're ok, when it is so glaringly obvious you're not. You always do, because you'd rather suffer in silence than let them see how much pain you're in. He's seen it enough times to know, no matter what changes, you will always try to bear your burden alone. He too however, will always be there for you, to make you smile, make you laugh. Anything to take your mind off how much you're suffering. Sometimes, he wonders if this is fair to you. To them. To anyone really. But he knows without fail, that the moment you are gone, the moment the emptiness inside him sets in, he will gladly takes this guilt over that empty, gnawing pain. 

It had taken quite a few resets for Red to realize his feelings for you, but it was something he could no longer deny. After endless cycles of hope, pain, and death. Losing you over and over. Bringing you back, desperate and praying that they might be able to find a cure, some way to save you, some way to fight back. Every time failing and swearing to change things next time. Red realized he loved you.

He had tried to deny it at first, of course, who wouldn't? Pretended that he was going along with the resets for Sans and Skull's sake. Humoring them and possibly helping you. Funnily enough, it was when they realized there was no way to actually beat this, no winning. No saving you. That Red had to admit, he loved you. Why else would this hurt him so much. Why else was he so desperate. Why else would he be given the decision that if he wanted to be with you, he'd have to willingly choose to keep you here, in this vicious, painful cycle.

Heh, never fails, the universe will alway find a way to fuck with him when it gets the chance, right? 

So here he was again, years worth of memories and experiences with you, all locked away in his head where you can't reach them. He's know you for a lifetime, while you? You've known him a few days. Starting over again, knowing it will end. Red can't look at you. Not right now. Not with the sting of his shame so fresh.

So he avoids meeting your eyes, instead focusing on the other two in the room, both of whom were just as desperate and lost as he is. Oh (y/n), you’ve broken them beyond repair, beyond redemption, and you didn't even know it. Or did they break themselves? 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Sans knew picking a fight with Skull right now was pointless, but the fact that he'd charged in without any thought. Without considering how much this might frighten you, had instantly set him on edge. They had a system. A tried and true way of easing you into the truth. Not this. Not instantly throwing you into the arms of someone you had no knowledge of meeting, and expecting you to just be okay with it. 

No matter how many times they reset, this part does not get any easier. Seeing you lose your memories, deciding which to recreated, which to change. Sometimes, Sans can't tell what memories of his happened before or after the reset. He'll slip up occasionally, reminisce about something you have no recollection of, only to catch the blank stare and sheepish smile you send his way. He doesn't tell you how much that hurts.

At least, Sans knows you'll never forget him completely. They've reset so many times, and without fail you always know him, inside and out. No matter how many times they end up here, you'll never look at him like a stranger. That, at least, gives him some semblance of peace, for Sans knows it is only a matter of time before you all end up here again. He can't save you. He's failed, and all he can do now is cling to these fleeting days.

In the beginning, Sans had told himself it'd be okay. They'd find a way to beat this. That THIS time, you would be fine. Every reset, he set about continuing his research. He'd focused on cures, at first. Hopeful that someday you could put this behind you, like a bad dream. When it became obvious that he couldn't cure you, he'd sought ways to manage the disease. You might still be sick, but if he could keep it from killing you then that would be as good as curing it. All Sans wanted was a future with you, but that too, would never happen. Eventually he admitted defeat and desperately sought ways to prolong your life at the very least. If he couldn't give you a future, maybe he could give you more time.

 

 

Again, he failed.

 

 

Shoulders slumping slightly, Sans looked away from Skull, focusing his eyelights on you.This wasn't the time to be fighting. Right now you came first. A pang of guilt hit Sans square in the chest as he sees the fear and confusion battling in your eyes.

“(Y/N). This is my cousin. Skull. He…..needs a place to stay.”

~~~~~~~~

“No kidding, huh? H-He always this friendly?”

You ask, glancing and the hands that have yet to remove themselves from your shoulders. Skull's grip tightens ever so slightly at the stammer in your words. As uncomfortable as you still are, an odd little voice in the back of your head keeps telling you that this guy is not going to hurt you. A part of you believes it, but the other part still wants some space between you and the newcomer.

With a sigh, Red once again comes to your rescue, leveling Skull with a gentle stare. 

“Ya know, it's kinda late bud. Why don't we let doll here get some sleep and we can pick this up in the mornin.” 

Okay, who was this imposter and what did he do with red?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Red couldn't help but feel bad for the big guy. He'd gotten the worst end of this deal after all. Sure, when the resets happen, you forget all but the first few days you'd known Red, but at least you know him. Everytime the reset happens, you have to “meet” Skull all over again. At this point, no one really remembers how many resets they've lived through, but each time, Skull takes it worse and worse, every time he's a little less okay than the last. Seeing you forget him, over and over again was taking its toll on the giant. Red felt a sort of understanding for Skull, something Sans just never seemed to be capable of. He'd come from a shithole too after all. Escaped hell, fallen for an angel only to have it all ripped away. Sans just couldn't relate.

Speaking of Sans.

“Red is right. (Y/N) has had enough of a scare for tonight. We can straighten everything out in the morning.”

 

God damn it, man. Fucking wording!

 

Red knows that Sans is just trying to get Skull to let you go. Send you to bed. Buy them some time to game plan how to ease you into everything. But shit, that was a pretty low blow. He's not surprised when Skull rips his hands off your shoulders as if they'd burned him. Staggering back from you as he brings his hand up to tug at his empty socket, tears already pricking the edges.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Scared.

 

 

He scared you.

 

…….

 

You weren't supposed to be scared.

 

 

You were staring at him from Sans’ side. Having moved closer to the shorter skeleton once Skull let you go. Your eyes were wide. Your shoulders stiff. Tense

 

 

……Afraid 

 

 

He needs to hold you. He needs to wrap you in his arms and take away all your fear. Your pain. Hide you away from the world. As long as he's holding you, nothing can take you away from him. He won't let it. He just has to keep you in his arms.

 

So please. 

 

 

Come back.

 

Panic clawed its way up his throat as Skull reaches for you again, only to see you step back. Fear flashed through your eyes for a split second as you brought your hands up to your chest, pressing yourself back against Sans unconsciously.

 

 

Don't look at him like that.

 

 

Just

 

 

Don't 

 

 

Be 

 

 

Scared

 

 

It took everything Skull had to put his arms down and step back. Tears were flowing freely down his face as he once again felt the hollow realization that you’d forgotten him.

 

Again.

 

 

He would never be able to forget you. Your voice, your face, your smile, all burned into his mind. Even with this gaping hole in in his head, Skull would remember you.

 

 

 

 

Always.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why can't you remember him.

 

 

 

 

In a flash, he's gone. Teleported to his room. Everything in him screaming to go back. To tell you everything. Make you understand. Make you remember.

 

 

He can't.

 

 

 

Not while you look at him with those eyes.

 

 

Shuddering sobs wrack his frame as Skull sinks to the floor. This part always hurts. Always feels like his SOUL is being torn out. Maybe it is. Eventually Red appears in the room. He doesn't speak. Just sits next to Skull and lets him cry out the pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sans is left alone with you in the living room. He isn't sure what to say. You're looking at him, expecting some sort of explanation. One that he isn't ready to give. Again. He's told you all this a thousand times, you'd think it would be easier. It's not. 

Sometimes they tell you right away. Sometimes they wait until you find out you're sick, and others they don't even tell you at all. it's hard to watch you try and come to terms with the fact that you are going to die. That you already have. If you've ever realized that this wasn't the first reset, you’ve never shown it. He wonders how you'd react if you knew just how long they've been reliving this particular chapter in their lives. He hopes he never finds out.

 

“So are you gonna tell me what that was all about?”

 

There it is. 

 

He sighs, closing his sockets, looking tired. So very tired.

 

“Heh, yeah. How bout in the morning bud? I'm kinda bone-tired right now.”

 

You're not amused, he can see that. But you huff, obviously accepting his offer.

“Fine. In the morning.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With that, you and Sans head to your respective rooms. You're not sure that you'll be able to actually get to sleep after all that just happened, but you couldn't argue with Sans. He'd looked and sounded so exhausted. Waiting until the morning hardly seemed like a big request when thought about it. 

 

Yet an hour later, when you are laying on your bed, staring at your ceiling, trying to shake the gnawing feeling in your chest, you can't help but regret your decision. Morning seems so far away, and some part of you know with certainty that something big is looming over the horizon. That when morning comes, things aren't going to be the same.

 

And then your phone rings.

 

“Heya dollface. Got time to talk?”


	2. Dejavu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments fill me with determination. I kinda couldn't stop myself from writing the next chapter. So here it is! Enjoy!

You wake up to the smell of delicious food. You can't quite tell what you're smelling, just that your stomach is going wild, encouraging you to leave the soft confines of your bed to track down the delicious source. You try to ignore the organ, but it refuses to go quietly into the night, growling and protesting until you finally have enough and decide to face the day.

 

You aren't exactly sure when you'd fallen back asleep last night, and for a brief moment you wonder if the whole thing had been another Netflix induced dream. Checking the call log on your phone confirms that not only was last night not a dream, but that you'd apparently spoken to your mystery caller for well over an hour.

 

That had been one of the odder additions to your night. Receiving what must have been a misdialed call in the wee hours of the morning, just for the caller to insist that since you were both awake so early, or late depending on your viewpoint, that it must be fate. You don't know why, but hearing the pained strain of his voice as he asked you not to hang up, made something in your heart hurt. You can't say why, but a voice in the back of your mind also pleaded with you not to hang up. So you didn't. 

 

You'd talked about trivial things really. Likes, dislikes, jokes and ridiculous questions that would never pop into your mind if it were fully awake and well rested. Like ‘if animals could talk, which would be the rudest?’ He'd insisted fish, but wouldn't elaborate. You silently wondered if he'd ever met Undyne and laughed.

 

The stranger gave you his name, Hit, but never asked for yours. At some point, when your replies slowed, and devolved into “hmms” and “ahhs”, he'd finally bid you goodnight, asking if he could talk to you again sometime. You aren't sure why, but you quickly agreed. In the light of morning you can't really find it in yourself to be mad about that.

 

While adding the number to your contacts from your call log, your impatient stomach sounds off once again. Deciding to finally go investigate the smells coming from the kitchen, you pocket your phone and make your way out of your room.

 

You do not expect to find your new house guest in the kitchen. Making a virtual breakfast buffet. Eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, waffles, even French toast. You stand there, dumbstruck for a moment wonder just how many people he planned of feeding. It's not until you notice him staring at you, that you finally realize you should probably say something. 

 

“Uh, morning. S-so...I guess you like...cooking?” 

 

Perfect.

 

Spectacular. 

 

Truly you are a linguistics master.

 

He doesn't seem to mind though. In fact, the slightly tense set to his shoulders actually seems to ease some, so maybe you'd done something right. Before you had a chance to ponder further though, Skull is making his way over to you, carrying a plate piled high with food. He pulls out a chair and places the food on the table. When you continue to just stare at him, he speaks for the first time, soft and slow.

 

“Sit…..Eat.”

 

A peace offering? 

 

You hesitate for a minute, debating on what to do when your stomach decided to growl again. Loudly. If you'd been looking at Skull, you'd have seen the way his face changed, like someone had kicked him in the gut. You do notice when he grunts and all but puts you in the chair himself. 

 

“Eat. Please.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It'd been so long since Skull had seen you eat. This last go around you'd been hospitalized longer than normal, sick, weak and unable to keep down solid foods. That never sat well with him. How were you supposed to have any hope of beating this if you couldn't eat. He knew you'd end up that way again. So he had to feed you now. Make you strong. Prepare for what was to come. Maybe that way, you'll have a better chance at fighting.

 

Skull sits across from you. His own helping of food before him. He watches you eat. You notice him staring, but don't speak. He can tell you're uncomfortable. 

 

Uncomfortable, but not scared.

 

 

Good.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Skull's staring is making you feel a little awkward, but this is much better than being treated like a life size teddy bear, so you aren't complaining. There is also no way to deny that the food tastes amazing. You're a little surprised the guy can cook, and you can't stop yourself from devouring the whole plate he'd set before you. Everything had been made to your exact preferences, almost as if he knew them as well as you did.

 

Sighing in contentment you lean back in your chair, grinning across the table at Skull.

 

“Well, that was truly eggs-cellent. Omelette-ing you in on a secret here. Breakfast food is my jam!”

 

If he's a relative of Sans, maybe puns would be a good way to break the ice. You wait, studying his face in silence until you notice the corners of his smile lift ever so slightly. 

 

Bingo

 

He doesn't laugh, or reply, but there is a change in the air between the two of you. As if some unseen cloud over your heads has now vanished. Skull must notice it too, as he now shifts his attention to his own food, packing away an impressive quantity. You sit in awe, watching him eat enough food to feed a small army. By the time he is done, you have a newfound respect for his ability to consume so much food, with no physical stomach to hold it all.

 

 

How does that even work?

 

 

Magic, you guess. That's what Sans would tell you anyway. Speaking of said small-fry. He has some explaining to do. You decide you'll track him down, rather than wait for him to come to you. After you sit here for a few more minutes. You can't really explain it, but it feels like you've done this before. Sitting here with Skull, enjoying breakfast, coffee, and the now oddly companionable silence. This feels familiar, right, like it's how things are supposed to be.

 

Why does that thought make you so sad?

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Morning had come all too quickly for Sans. He knew it would. You'd have questions, you'd want answers, and he wasn't quite sure which ones to give. How much should he tell you today? Which was kinder? To tell you now, and get it out of the way? Or was it better to wait, let you have a few more days to believe you'd have a future. He never knew which was better. He's tried every variation he can think of. You never take it well. 

 

That's why Red was nowhere to be seen. He always disappears for this part, not that Sans can blame him. He wishes he had that option too. As it is, Sans is completely unprepared when you knock on his door. Looks like time's up. 

 

 

 

 

It's now or never.

 

 

 

 

Anytime now.

 

 

 

 

 

He doesn't answer. 

 

 

 

 

~~~~~

 

When you don't hear anything, you decide to slowly crack the door open.

 

“Sans? You decent? I'm coming in.”

 

Still, no response. You open the door all the way, spotting Sans on the bed looking like a deer in headlights. You're sure there is some type of joke to be made here. Headlights. Eyelights. It could work. If your mind weren't so preoccupied you have given it more thought.

 

As it were, Sans looks about ready to bolt, so you close the door behind you. Knowing that if he really wanted to escape it would make no difference, but sending a clear message anyway. This seems to break whatever trance he'd lost himself in. Reluctantly the Skeleton pats the spot next to him on the bed, giving in and silently inviting you to sit down.

 

You oblige, sitting down cross legged, facing Sans. Hoping he'd actually answer your questions this time, instead of playing verbal limbo. You look up at your roommate, about to repeat your question from last night. Yet before your lips can even form the words, Sans takes the initiative. He leans in, and does the most unexpected thing imaginable.

 

Gently, as if afraid you'll run, Sans cups your check, and guides your face to his, pressing his teeth to your lips in a tender kiss. 

 

 

 

*(Y/N).exe has stopped working*

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The thing about living through so many resets, is that you repeat so many experiences ad nauseam, that some, if not most, lose their wonder. You can only see the ocean for the first time once after all. Sure, it will always be beautiful. Yes, you'll enjoy looking at it, but the wonder, the thrill of that first encounter. You can't get that back. That fades.

 

THIS however, this was not one of those experiences. 

 

No matter how many time Sans has experienced this, he will never get enough. The way your breath hitches. The way you melt against him, as your hands come up to wind around his neck. The warm exhale of breath and the bubbly giggles as you pull away, eyes bright and alive. This never fades.

 

Closing his sockets, he rests his forehead against yours for a moment. Preparing himself to ruin it all.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“We need to talk.”

 

“Yeah, no kidding.”

 

You laugh, pulling away. You're still smiling at him. You look happy. Confused, but happy. Oh how he wishes he could freeze you here. Take this moment and stretch it out your whole life. Stop what happens next, but he can't. So instead, he begins to tell you everything.

 

He starts with the machine. Skull, Red, who they are. Where they came from. You look shocked, but after a moment of thought and a firm study of his expression, you nod seemingly satisfied that it's the truth. You ask questions, he answers, numbness taking over as he tells you that you've heard this all before.

 

That has your face scrunching up in confusion. Sans looks away and diverts his explanation. He isn't ready to go there just yet. So instead, he explains to you what a reset is. He tells you that you've experienced one and just can't remember it. No one can. 

 

Except him….. and other hims. 

 

You look like you believe this less, but let him continue. Sans tells you how you how things went the first time. How you originally met Skull. How close they all become to you. Sans tells you about his feelings. How he'd never gotten the nerve to confess to you. How he wishes he hadn't wasted so much time.

 

Your look of confusion and disbelief is now mix with something else. Sometimes Sans can't identify. He wants to stop his explanation here, wants to smile and say that's it. No more mysteries. No more secrets, but he knows he can't. 

 

 

So he tells you about your illness. 

 

 

His words are coming out faster now. Mixing with apologies, condolences, anything he can think of to lessen the blow. He knows what comes next. The sobs, the cries of panic and fear, as your world comes tumbling down.

 

 

The breakdown always comes.

 

 

Always.

 

 

Without fail.

 

 

Any minute now.

 

 

Well this was new. 

 

Sans studies your face, expecting to see tears, fear, something other than the grim acceptance looking back at him. This had never happened before. You never get that look to your eyes until much later. Something is different. You look sad, yes, but understanding, as if you already knew this was coming.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Somehow, it feels like you did. The more Sans spoke, the more sense everything made. The dream. The dread. The sense of dejavu that had been plaguing you all day. All at once, the tension you'd been feeling since last night snaps, dissipating the way it does when one hold a rubber band taught, only to release it. Everything was clicking into place. 

 

It makes sense why so many things felt familiar, like you'd done or heard them before, because you had.

 

A cold chill makes its way down your spine.

 

How many times had you heard this before?

 

You look at Sans, and he realizes you've pieced it together. He can see that question in your eyes, so he looks away. You're shaking now, as you ask the only question you'd never asked before.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“Sans……….how many?”  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“SANS!”  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“How many?”  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“I don't know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not, Sans got some love in this chapter, but all the skeles will get some love throughout the story. This thing is just beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> That's it for now folks. This was originally gonna be a one shot, but plot bunnies multiply, and now this will be a muti-chapter, maybe long-ish fic? Idk how long exactly, but expect more! Please leave feedback and let me know what you think. 
> 
> I did my best to keep the guys in character true to Llama's fic, but these boys have been resetting so much that they've had a few years to grow and change some. I personally think Red and Skull would form some kind of understanding/friendliness with each other. Since they were the ones who stuck by MC's side for almost all the resets. Sans had kinda isolated himself in his search for a cue, and then there is Hit. Welp, that's all for now folks. See ya next time!


End file.
